THE INEVITABLE
The moment your feet leave the ground is like any other, whether it's a warm-up or an onsight attempt of your latest project. Your feet and hands could be moving fluidly, your mind may be focused and clear, but then something goes wrong. Perhaps the lactic acid begins to creep it's way into the capillaries of your forearms. Or maybe a hold gives way without warning. Or just maybe you're a boss throwing down on a V12 that climaxes at a horizontal low percentage deadpoint to a slopey volcanoesque hueco.
No matter what the cause, the inevitable happens. You fall.......hard. This of course looks a little something like this...
THE AFTERMATH
Your eyes open only to see a crowd of scantily dressed chalky climbers. Half of them are smiling for some reason and the other half have a grimace that only solidifies their personal choice not to try the same problem. One brave patron eventually musters up the gaul to ask, "You alright dude?" Your immediate reaction is not to move slow and make sure that all Tab A's are still connected to the appropriate Slot B's, instead you jump up saying the obligatory, "I'm ok!" and immediately start chalking up looking for the nearest stick brush lying around. As you stand up, holding the stick brush as if your name was Gandalf, you don't pay attention to the creaks associated with the jammed shoulder that occurred on impact. The crash landing that caused your elbow to hit the floor shifting your shoulder 4 inches further than the norm, hitting you in the head above your ear. With a quick brushing and a 30 second stare down of the problem, you go straight into send mode. This rush of adrenaline from a quick trip to the deck seems to have you more focused than ever.
THE OUTCOME
Everything else seems to disappear as you go through your normal routine of rubbing your hands together three times in a sidewards slapping motion. You blow the remainder of white powder off your tips, slap your thigh and hear the scratch of nails on the concrete as you curl your pads over the two crimp starting holds. One audible breath out and you're on:
Drop your knee and flag; your body feels perfectly balanced even though in some deep cavern of your mind some pain receptor is screaming at you because you tweaked a tendon. Keep the tension as you hit the first left hand gaston and focus everything on that left toe keeping you from the barndoor swing that's blown you off of the first move dozens of times before. Your right foot seems to find the minuscule nub as if some magnetic force pulled your toe onto the perfect spot. As your brain focuses on getting your right hand as high above the huge sloper looming 18 inches above, your muscle memory kicks in, turns your toe slightly in and drops the knee 3 degrees, somehow knowing that this is what it takes to not blow that toe. With a loud thud and a puff of chalk your right hand sticks the large Nicros brain and feels solid. This is the first time you haven't had to readjust to find that slight indent close to the wall that half of your pad can gain a little more on. Your knee readjusts back in the other direction 3 degrees as your left foot flags like the pendulum of an old grandfather clock frozen in time. Effortlessly, your left hand joins your right and your brain flashes to "the fall." A momentary lapse of focus courses through your brain as the throbbing spot above your ear reminds you that it was only moments ago.
A shake of the head and you snap back to the moment, relax and straighten your arms only as much as gravity will allow. With another audible breath your eyes drift down as your left foot gently finds the crimp start hold and digs in. A perfect blend of momentum and balance starts your journey to the end. You feel your left foot come off the crimp, your right hand off that slight imperfection on the sloper and suddenly you have tunnel vision towards the finish. Don't forget when you stick your right hand your remaining foot is going to cut and your left hand needs to slide to the right to make use of that imperfection. Your right hand is inches away and the sudden feeling of weightlessness as your right toe becomes insignificant. FOCUS!! Your hand is there and it knows what to do, now look back. You watch your left hand slide into place and you know that any second now you'll have to summon all of your strength to hold this. You tense up as you feel both feet drift to the right of your center. As this is happening you watch as your left hand grips tight, and then tighter, and then snaps into the shape of a fist as it blows off of the hold. It's happening again, quick do something! You know if your foot so much as grazes the wall, it will shift your momentum out immediately causing your right hand to pop. Your feet drift further to the right and you scream, not because there is pain, not because you're angry that your hand didn't follow the plan, but because the willpower to hold a one handed campus on a slick hueco as your body flails is going to take all you can muster. You're body remembers the exact moment that your right hand slipped out sending you hurling towards the ground. That moment passes as your legs have reached their apex. You're left hand is still reaching for that sloper knowing that at any moment, gravity will play its part and shift your momentum. All you have to do is hold on. The scream continues...
In a flash your left hand is back on the sloper, no time to be surprised, your foot finds the wall instinctually to keep you from looking like a vertical pancake. Your body settles into place and for an instant your shoulder reminds you of your epic impact moments ago. You keep your composure and find that left foot and let out a shout. In your mind this shout is a combination of relief, pain, joy, and an element of surprise. To the crowd, that seconds ago was secretly hoping that they would see some air time, it is a cry of triumph. You could've called it a day when you scraped yourself off the mat. You could've gathered the small amount of pride necessary, using one of a million climber excuses, but it was the fall that drove you. The fall that kept your senses on point and focused. The fall that reminded you of where you need a little bit more. In a way, the fall is what makes you that much better.
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